I especially hate this about it: Lighting Design. FUCK lighting design.
The next weeks I’m going to be quite the busy bee. The show is going to open in a two weeks…I promised to give my spare time to help Jack with a film project, and I’ve got papers to write. Tons and tons of papers. Lengthy bastards too.
I haven’t slept since Friday. Friday night was a big party and I went to bed in a confused mood. I was extremely tired from the lack of rest, but somehow managed to lay awake on Saturday evening. On Sunday, I got a nap in for an hour and 1/2, but didn’t muster up enough energy to remain stable. Sunday, I didn’t go to sleep. I was too busy thinking about my life and where’s it heading and why things are the way they are and why I’m such a pushover… so no sleep there. Then Monday night comes around… I tried to nap in the middle of the day but, of course, that didn’t work out. So when it’s 12 am and I’m waiting for someone I thought that I was going to pass out. I didn’t and instead was rejuvnated for some time. However once they left, I tried to go to sleep and something happened that prevented me from doing so. I felt really nauseous, though somehow depressed. I tried taking benadryl to force me into a coma, but that didn’t work. I eventually just lost it and started crying at 4:30 am. I dozed off at 6 but woke up at 8. Then last night I said fuck it. I got really mad at something completely useless and blown out of proportion so I knew that sleep was, once again not going to come easily. Therefore I was serious about the drugging. I called up a friend and cried to him. He came over and so did another person who I also love. They soothed my soul, calmed me down a bit, and I got the necessary chemicals in my system to make me forget about life, even for the small moment that it was. I woke up earlier than I should of and now I’m here in the media center, completely exhausted. I don’t have all of my work with me because my file on my computer was ruined. That all happened last night leading to my ultimate breakdown.
I DON’T UNDERSTAND ANY OF YOUR WORK. First, I had to read your play, Flying, which flew completely over my head. (pun intended) And now, in a completely different semester I have had the misfortune of having to read Tanya Tanya.
Listen to me lil’ Olga… I love that you are new, spontaneous, and that you use overheard dialog to form a play. However, I think plays should make sense. Contrary to what I may think, you think that they need no direction whatsoever. Well Olga, I don’t think that I will be reading any more of your plays.
and here’s some alliteration for you
olga obviously only optimises obscenely offensive offal.